Dangerous Waters by A.J. Rivers (Emma Griffin FBI Book 1)
English | 2020 | Mystery, Thriller | ePUB | 3.0 MB
She was terrorized, afraid, and desperate for help.
But her hopeless pleas would never be answered. No one would come to her rescue.
Now her body lays lifeless, floating in the water.
The girl could not escape the deadly and sinister secrets that Windsor Island holds…
It’s been a year since the body of FBI agent Emma Griffin’s ex-boyfriend was found on the beach.
His death remains as mysterious as ever, the truth has yet to be revealed.
Emma still cannot escape the feeling of guilt, regret, and grief that follows her daily.
Until a girls night with her best friend brought an unexpected surprise.
A week-long-all-expense paid vacation to an exclusive island resort.
Being in paradise should be the perfect way to clear her mind… But, when a body turns up and girls start to go missing. Disturbing secrets about the resort are coming to the surface. Turns out paradise is just an illusion, and the truths behind the dangers on this island are far more disturbing than Emma and her friends could ever imagine.
Emma isn’t content to let any secrets lie hidden. She’s going to find the culprit behind the murder and the disappearance.
Even if it means she gets taken too.
Will Emma be able to survive “paradise” and get off the island alive?
‘Creagan can shove a flute up his ass and play ‘Dixie’ with a straw. After the shit he pulled with my mother’s death and dangling me like a piece of raw meat in front of a serial killer, he knows better than to get in my way right now.’
Eric gives a slightly shaky nod, and I continue down the sidewalk. A few seconds later, he takes several jogging steps to catch up with me.
“When all this has settled down a bit, remind me to have you explain the physiology of what you just said,” he says.
“Do you want a demonstration?” I ask.
“Not necessary. Especially if it includes visual aids.”
“Then you’ll just have to use your imagination,” I offer.
Just as I expected, Creagan doesn’t show his face as we enter the war room that has been set up to manage the investigation into Greg’s murder. In the days since his body was found, a frustratingly minuscule amount of progress has been made into finding out what happened. This room contains everything investigators have uncovered, but the shreds are still scattered around, like pieces of a puzzle yet to be put together. Well, at this point, it’s almost as if not just one, but several puzzles have been upended and tossed around. We have to sift through them all to even find the pieces that matter.
Some of those pieces are the crime scene photos. These photos are a sliver of time. I’ve always felt that crimes burn into a place, permanently altering the atmosphere. These pictures record the moment that brand is made. Even tiny details can give insight into the crime that might otherwise be lost. That’s what makes them so invaluable and influential in an early investigation.
My hands pressed flat on the large oval table; I sweep my eyes over the photos spread out across it. They land on one, and I pull it toward me.
‘Look,’ I say to Eric, running my fingertip down the trail of footprints behind Greg’s body. ‘There are footprints all over the beach, but there wasn’t much rain in the days before the murder, so the sand was dry. The footprints are shallow. They just pressed down into the very surface of the sand. But look at the ones behind Greg.’